Project Northwoods (103 page)

It washed over her like a wave. Ariana doubled over in agony, her face and body feeling like they were on fire. Others, too, were feeling the same psychic blast, dropping their weapons and crashing to the ground, clutching non-existent wounds. It wasn’t just the Enforcers: SERAPHIM forces were collapsing from the onslaught as the world turned red, slick pavement drying as droplets of water wafted up from the surface in a lazy mist.

The pain was almost too much, making Ariana hope that she would die, just to have the opportunity to not feel the crippling agony of Arbiter’s existence. She tried digging into the pavement, cracking her fingernails against it as she couldn’t help but cry out.

Ariana collapsed as though strings keeping her upright had been cut. Her face was pressed against the surprisingly warm, wet, and dirty concrete for what seemed like days. It took the prickles of the cool night air to make her realize she no longer felt the terrible pain of Retribution. She inhaled, deeply, lungs trembling at the sensation. With arms of rubber, she pushed herself into a position to see her tormentor. He lay motionless in the still night.

Is he dead?

Colonel Morant was the first to move, heading toward the body. He gingerly kicked it over, making Arbiter release a gurgling, raspy breath. He knelt by the fallen hero and began restraining him. His free hand went to his earpiece. “This is Colonel Morant. Arbiter has been captured.”

“I’m not going to prison for this. Not for what they dragged me into,” Claymore said, eyes on Zombress.

“You honestly think they won’t pardon you?” Zombress asked, folding her arms across her chest.

He smiled grimly. “Why would they? I’m one of Arbiter’s confidants. I had a job when everyone lost theirs.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “And you never reported anything suspicious about the reason the kill order was given at the Fortress.” She put her hands on her hips. “I suppose that
is
a pretty grievous error in judgment.”

“You don’t understand…” he began with a shake of his head.

“That you thought you would have lost everything? Your power, your position, your freedom?” Zombress gave the hero an indignant laugh. “Believe me, I know the excuses.”

Claymore shook his head. “I’m not staying here.”

Zombress ran to him and shoved him to the floor, hissing in his ear. “I know your kind. Stubborn enough to never change sides until it’s too late. Just following orders as others march to die. Happily selling their freedom for your own gain.” She flipped him over and stepped on his groin. “You’re not running.” She stared down at him, fighting the urge to grind her heel into his dick. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and be out in a couple of years.” She sneered as she looked at him. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Zombress,” Mollie whispered in her ear.

“Yes, love?” she responded, bringing her eyes up to the ceiling.

“Archetype is no longer in the building.”

Zombress worked her jaw in disbelief. Her gaze fell back down to Claymore, his fearful eyes staring up at her. “Do we have his monologue?”

“It has already been uploaded to various video-sharing sites,” Mollie sighed.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Good. I can’t wait to see when the finger pointing begins.” She descended over Claymore, grabbed him by the body armor, and hoisted him upright. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to tell the truth to others who haven’t stabbed you in the spine soon enough.”

Ariana couldn’t tear her eyes away from the charred body that she knew, but couldn’t accept, was her father. He was gone… her whole family was well and truly gone. The sounds of the struggle were fading, replaced with a rumble which escalated into a cheer. The SERAPHIM must have stopped fighting, realizing their employer had been blown up.

Not that it mattered to her… Arbiter lived, her family died.

She wanted, needed more than anything, to have Tim walk up to her, kneel by her, and hug her in his strong arms. In some of her darkest moments, when she accepted that her father was going to die, she always thought that Tim would be there. Instead, she was alone. In his guilt and agony, her father had chosen to die to keep her safe rather than have her in a world where Arbiter could hurt her again.

A hand rested on her shoulder, shocking her back to reality. Ariana looked up as the badly battered Morgan knelt by her side and, in a pale imitation of what she wanted more than anything, held her. “I know how you feel,” she whispered. Ariana brought her hand up to hold the hero’s arm closer to her as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Another hand fell on her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze, even if she didn’t welcome it. Ariana looked up with tear-stained eyes, watching Colonel Morant kneel by her father and shake his head. He stood as Zombress came walking down the Guild steps, dragging a black armor-clad prisoner. At the sight of Aeschylus, she shoved the man toward an Enforcer and crossed to the body. Recognition washed over her face and her eyes shut, as though she was in pain. Zombress quickly turned to walk away, putting her hand to her head in anger.

Colonel Morant walked by Ariana, facing the crowd behind her. Silence seemed to creep over the entire city, waiting for his reaction. He held up his fist triumphantly. The roar that greeted his action was intense, enough to startle Ariana to greater tears. She buried her head in the crook of Morgan’s arm, only now returning the grip she found herself in. The heroine started to cry, a sympathetic reaction.

Around her, others had taken victory.

Victory should have meant that her father was alive.

It should have meant that Tim was running to her right now.

Instead, it meant something so cold and hollow that she doubted she had ever known what the word truly meant.

NORTHWOODS

“TAKE A RIGHT UP AHEAD,”
Mollie chimed in Arthur’s ear. He obeyed, his legs feeling like rubber. “I apologize for the circuitous route.”

Arthur swallowed as he swiftly rounded the corner, his throat scratching against itself. “It’s fine. Rather have this than end up a drooling mess.” His mind rolled momentarily back to the conversation in which Catalina, stone-cold killer, seemed deathly afraid of Zombress. When Mollie told him to hide because of the Queen of the Dead, he hid. “So now it’s just me and our mystery guests, right?”

“There are no signs of the other heroes,” answered Mollie. “The control room is up ahead.”

“Any idea who the shooters are?”

“More and more cameras are being destroyed,” she said. Arthur raised an eyebrow as he reached the door, the keycard reader glowing a faint red. “Multiple floors. At least we were able to acquire audio and video evidence of Archetype’s betrayal.”

“How’s that working out?” he asked, fumbling for the keycard.

“Half a million views and a breaking news story on multiple fronts,” she responded. “We have temporarily dethroned the top videos of a dog saying ‘poinsettia’ and a skateboarder falling off a railing onto his genitals. Once again, I am amazed at your species’ continued survival.” Arthur nodded sympathetically as he shakily slid the card through the slot. “Once you are inside, you should be safe.” She paused, prompting Arthur to check over his shoulder the moment the light fizzed out. “Relatively speaking.”

A hiss signaled the release of the pressure lock. Arthur did a quick 180 to double-check the hall, backing through the door before securing it behind him. The lock re-engaged as he turned to face the chamber. The huge room stretched at least two stories; no doubt former first floor offices had been destroyed to make room for the gantries and wires running everywhere. A huge screen, affixed to the far wall, remained lifeless and black for the time being. Carefully, he moved through the rows of computer towers, stepping over wires.

“Are you there?” Mollie asked. Something about the question made him stop.

“Of course, Mol.”

“I cannot see you,” she reported. “It’s unsettling.”

“A blind spot?” he asked, moving forward.

“No, there should be plenty of coverage,” she cooed. “Oh, dear.”

“What?” he asked as he walked through the first intersection. Movement caught the corner of his eye, and he stumbled backward before slamming himself against the unyielding computer bank. He reached up to his earpiece. “Mollie, what’s wrong?”

“Overseer… corrupted the video feeds… It is the same fifteen seconds of empty room cycled over and over,” she squeaked quickly. “Other places, too.”

“Why?” Arthur asked. He rose to his feet and darted through the intersection, heading toward the monitor at the back of the room. “When?”

“After Arbiter left. I am puzzled, Arthur, and I do not like it.”

Arthur flattened himself against a computer tower, trying to minimize his profile. Inching along to his goal, he hoped that he hadn’t been noticed. It was entirely possible that whoever was patrolling the room had merely walked by him, unnoticing, and happily marched their way out.

A flash of movement ahead made Arthur stop, the recognition of the barrel of a gun quickening his pulse. “Stop!” came the directive from a familiar, though now authoritative, voice. He wanted to relax at the sight of Julia, but she didn’t lower her weapon even as she recognized him in the relative darkness of the computer room. “Arthur?”

He pushed himself off the tower. “Julia, I can…”

She kept the gun trained on him, but took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“Stopping this mess,” he said simply.

In the faint light, he could see her chin quiver just enough to give him heart. She blinked, clearly fighting back tears. “I thought you were dead… you were at the Villains’ Guild… when…”

Arthur took a breath, eyes flicking toward the monitor behind Julia. “I got out before Arbiter hit it with the death ray.”

“Death ray?” Julia asked. “You mean Freedom’s Sword?”

Arthur fought the urge to scoff. “Is that what he’s calling it?”

Something glittered in her eyes, but was quickly blinked away. She swallowed dryly. “Were you here the night dad…” she began before trailing off. Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. He tried to stammer something, but nothing came out. She twitched. “It
was
you.” Julia shook her head, anger flaring back into her eyes. “It
was
you! This wouldn’t have happened…
none
of it… if you hadn’t have helped Zombress kill dad!”

He shook his head, “Julia, I…”

“Shut up!” she shouted. “You always hated him. And believe me, I understand.” She shook her head. “But he didn’t deserve to die.”

“Julia, I swear to you… I had nothing to do with what happened to dad.”

“You were here, Arthur!” she shouted as she took another step back. Arthur inched closer to her. “Did you want to warn dad about the hit?”

“There was no hit!” Arthur shouted.

Julia swallowed. “… If you just say you tried to warn him, I would understand.”

Arthur’s brain was reeling. There was so much to say, but there was no time to say it. “The night dad died, all I wanted to do was spray paint anti-Arbiter crap on the walls.” He stared at her, unmoving. “That’s all.”